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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28176774">a boy who needs his father will do anything he's told</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/AdmirableMonster'>AdmirableMonster (Mertiya)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Celebrimbor's Life is a Tragedy, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Frank discussions of paranoia, Gaslighting, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Parental Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trust, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Relationships, Working through my own issues, annatar makes terrible life decisions, fuck tyelpe i'm really sorry, i'm really serious about being careful with the abuse tags on this fic, probably more central than the relationship abuse, you fucking BROKE IT annatar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:21:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,111</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28176774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/AdmirableMonster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sauron returns to Celebrimbor's cell and finds him having an animated conversation with someone who isn't there.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Annatar/Celebrimbor | Telperinquar, Celebrimbor | Telperinquar &amp; Curufin | Curufinwë</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a boy who needs his father will do anything he's told</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>okay haha going full projection on this one</p>
<p>please heed the tags and warnings this isn't an easy ride and it doesn't go well for anyone</p>
<p>also ftr i do not think curufin is an irredeemable monster or anything?</p>
<p>i just don't think he was great at being a dad</p>
<p>title paraphrased from "The Pomegranate Seed" by Cosy Sheridan and somewhat repurposed</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">There were voices coming from Celebrimbor’s cell.Annatar—no, Sauron—paused in his approach, a sense of alarm tingling up his spine.He did not let anyone into that particular cell, with that particular prisoner.Celebrimbor was his alone.His footsteps lengthened, and he occupied himself by imagining the torments he would rain down upon whoever had trespassed upon his territory.</p>
<p class="p1">Rounding the corner, he slammed the key into the lock and clicked the door open, expecting to see some fool Orc captain or other.But no—Celebrimbor was where he had been left, his hands bound above his head, the blood drying in trails along his lovely, marked skin.It was he who was speaking.</p>
<p class="p1">“<em>Atar</em>,” Celebrimbor’s voice said, a hoarse rasping echo of its former beauty.“We can have this argument as many times as you like.I still will not agree with you.”</p>
<p class="p1">Sauron halted, his hand upon the door.There was no one in the cell.No ghosts, either—he would have been able to sense such a disturbance.It was quite empty, except for Celebrimbor, whose eyes were open and fixed upon a point somewhere in the middle distance.</p>
<p class="p1">As he stood, uncertain, Celebrimbor laughed harshly.“I agree, it is hardly a pleasant place.”He paused, cocking his head to the side as if listening.“Yes, I concede that Elrond and Galadriel were correct.”He sighed harshly.“Do <em>not</em> lecture me about <em>blind faith</em>, Atar.I do not want to hear it.”</p>
<p class="p1">His dark eyes filled with tears, and there was a muted sound of cracking wood near Annatar’s hand. </p>
<p class="p1">“If only you would trust <em>me</em>,” he said plaintively.Then, “No, no, you do <em>not</em>—that is not <em>trust</em>!That is believing in my skills, my judgment, my ability to reason.It is not trust if you must have a ten-step plan of my reasoning process before you believe me!”</p>
<p class="p1">He made a high, whining pained noise, jerking in his bonds.“Oh, please do not look at me so, Atar, as if I have hurt you so deeply?I am the one who is bound and chained, I am the one who is put to torment, it is not you!”</p>
<p class="p1">Annatar thought that he should intercede, but he was caught, frozen, unable to look away.</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes, I admit it, I could have made a different choice,” Celebrimbor said softly.“I know how foolish you think me.If I had closed the walls of Eregion as you would have done, I would not be here now.Do you think I did not want to?Do you think I did not wake up, night after night, with <em>panic</em> clawing in my chest at the thought of what dark thoughts might lurk in the hearts—not just of Annatar, but of others in the city?Elrond, Galadriel, Narvi?I have feared all of them at one time or another.But I chose not to.”He coughed, and blood spattered at his feet.“I chose not to, and I do not care what you say, I would have preserved my body at the cost of losing who I wanted to be.Now please—will you not leave me in peace?”</p>
<p class="p1">He turned his face to the side.“Please, leave me be,” he begged.“Oh, you are worse than Sauron!”</p>
<p class="p1">A pause, then alarm flickering across his face.“No—no, Atya, please—I did not mean it the way it sounded, please do not look at me so, I cannot bear it!Please do not be angry with me, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am—”He was sobbing now, and it was Annatar who could not bear it, a tight, horrible tension playing in his chest.This was not his design.He had not said that someone else could get in through the chinks he had opened in Tyelpe’s mind to hurt him with long-ago arguments! </p>
<p class="p1">“For so long…” Tyelpe mumbled, through lips that were swollen, one bruise extending up the side of his face and marring its lovely symmetry, “for so long, <em>all</em> I wanted was for you to be proud of me, Atya.”</p>
<p class="p1">A quick indrawn breath slipped in and out of Annatar’s lungs.He could not stand the pain in his lover’s voice any longer; before he could think, he was in through the door, at Tyelpe’s side, and undoing the shackles that bound him to the wall, pulling him into his arms.“Tyelpe, hush, he is not here,” he whispered.“Hush, hush, he is not here.”</p>
<p class="p1">Those dark eyes blinked in confusion for a long, long moment, and Sauron noted with clinical ease the way in which Celebrimbor’s <em>fëa </em>was fraying from his <em>hröa</em>.Too long he had been here.Too long, and too stubborn.</p>
<p class="p1">“Annatar?” Tyelpe said weakly.“Ai, love, I have been having dark dreams indeed.”He shivered and whimpered with pain.“I am sorry,” he mumbled.</p>
<p class="p1">“Sorry?” Annatar echoed.<em>Sorry enough to tell me the location of the Rings?</em> demanded the overriding obsessive need licking hungrily at the corners of his awareness.</p>
<p class="p1">“I suppose you saw that?I was dreaming, I think.”Tyelpe gave him a dazed, shuddering look.“I do trust you,” he said weakly.“But it does not come so easy to me as you might think.”He sighed.“I should not apologize for that.But I would prefer to have told you, rather than have you find out like this, I suppose.”He moved, weakly.“Ai…where <em>am</em> I?This does not look like our bedroom.”</p>
<p class="p1">Annatar held him close.Why—why did he feel so <em>sick</em>?He had laughed the day before, a high long laugh, as he was inflicting these injuries, himself.And Tyelpe could easily have stopped him—all he had to do was tell him where the damn <em>rings</em> were!</p>
<p class="p1">“Shhh,” he whispered.“Do not concern yourself.You—you were taken from Eregion, Tyelpe, but you are—safe now.I—” where were these words coming from?The terrified, frantic, hot feeling in his chest that he had done something terrible.Oh, it was all a muddle in his head.He was a fool.He did not understand.</p>
<p class="p1">“I did not…believe it,” murmured Tyelpe.“If I were another man, I would say I knew that you would come for me.I did not know it.I only…” he smiled, the smile twisted and made crooked by the injuries to his face.“I only trusted you,” he whispered, and Annatar held him, frantically murmuring reassurance, unable to stand, unable to move, caught and frozen in place by the impossible realization that he had taken something that had been mended, beautifully, and broken it again.</p>
<p class="p1">Perhaps irreparably.</p>
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